


Mousetrap

by Felicity_The_Cat



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: After the events of Sly 4, Blood and Gore, Could Be Canon, Could be a direct continuation of the fourth game, Drinking, F/M, Mild Language, Multiverse, Sly 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicity_The_Cat/pseuds/Felicity_The_Cat
Summary: When Penelope wakes up after blacking out, she's thrown into a confusing situation. Everything seems the same at first but she quickly finds that her friends are different. They aren't her friends and she isn't their Penelope.This alternate timeline Cooper gang doesn't trust her in the least bit but Penelope knows that earning their trust is the only way to get back to her own timeline. Can she help this timeline heal after what their version of her has done to break it? Will she ever get back home?(Picks up after Sly 4. Could be considered Sly 5?)





	1. Chapter 1

Her vision was a blur of colors and shapes, going by much too fast and giving her a headache.

The little mouse grabbed at her head, gasping and whining as her senses returned to her and her vision cleared. One of her glasses lenses were cracked beyond repair but she didn’t care too much about them at the moment. She looked about her, at a loss for where she was at first.

The last thing she remembered was heading to bed after working on a project with Bentley and blacking out. The mouse had no idea how she had gotten in the streets of Paris but she needed to get back to the safehouse and quick before she was spotted.

 

Penelope ignored her aching head as she stood and brushed herself off, wincing as she looked around the empty streets, making sure no one was watching her. She felt fairly certain she was alright so she slipped into an alley. As much as she hated going into dark, shady places alone, she knew that it would be her best bet at getting back to the safe house without being seen by police. She was a wanted criminal, after all. As she paced down the dirty alleyway, she reached into her pocket, grasping onto her cell phone. She flipped the small device open, squinting to make out the time. _4:46 A.M._ Penelope blinked in surprise.

It was about _10 P.M_. when she had decided to retire to bed. The time loss wasn’t all that shocking, though. She had most likely been kidnapped, she easily pieced together. Why she was dumped several blocks away in the streets, she couldn’t say.

 

Her small boots splashed in a dirty puddle on the alley’s brick floor as she paced, rubbing her arms as she shivered from the cold. She had no logical explanation as to why she had been taken out of her home but finding Bentley was the first step to finding out what was going on.

The trip back to the safehouse was uneventful other than running into an alley cat or two that had scared the little pink mouse out of her skin. The feral animals hissed and ran off, disappearing into the night. When the safehouse came into view, Penelope smiled softly, knowing that she would be welcomed warmly by her friends with love and concern.

Maybe Bentley would even make her favorite tea. She adored that peach flavored brand that Bentley had discovered. It helped her sleep on the nights where she simply couldn’t doze off.

 

Penelope walked up the steps and took a small key ring out of her pocket. She slid the little golden key up to the lock but was surprised when it didn’t fit. She was certain this was the right key. Why had the locks been changed? Penelope lowered her ears nervously, realizing that in a panic Bentley may have changed the locks after she had gone missing; fearing that someone would use her key to gain entrance to the hideout again if they ever decided to come crawling back.

“Oh, Bentley…” Penelope sighed with a shake of her head. She would have to find another way in. Her phone was pretty much dead but she figured calling one of the gang would be easier than slithering inside through a window. She typed in the number she knew by heart and lifted the phone to her ear, waiting patiently while the little device rang. It rang and rang but nobody picked up. Wonderful. Letting out a heavy sigh, Penelope slipped her phone back into her overall’s pocket. She walked around the safehouse quietly. She reached a window she had used to slip inside once before when she had forgotten her keys. She gave a small triumphant smirk once she realized that she'd just found her ticket inside. The window sat up far too high for her to even see into but she had simply stacked a few trash cans to boost herself up the last time she'd slipped in through the window. It took no time at all before the trash cans were stacked and she found herself peeking inside moments later.

The inside of the safe house seemed to be in disarray; machine parts and blueprints were scattered everywhere. Bentley had been brainstorming, she could tell. He was probably worried sick. Penelope slipped her fingers under the small opening in the window and pulled up, grunting as the old thing fought against her, determined to stay shut. The mouse triumphed after about a minute of effort and was safely inside the safe house within the next minute. She shut the window easier than she had gotten it open and turned to look at the mess around her. The open window had let in the chilly night air, making the safehouse not much warmer than the outside world. Penelope shuddered.

She carefully tiptoed over the machine parts that painted the floor, not wanting to damage whatever it was that Bentley was working on.

 

“Hey, uh… Bentley?” She called out, looking around the dark house. Nobody seemed to have any lights on and she began to wonder if they were even there.

“Sly?” She called out next, making her way to the kitchen and peeking inside.

Nobody was in sight; not even Murray. The mouse lowered her ears, discouraged a little.

She walked inside of the kitchen despite its emptiness to get a glass of water. She climbed onto the small, blue and yellow toddler stool that she used to help her reach the taller things in the kitchen. When she opened the cabinet to grab her favorite mug she couldn’t seem to find it.

Funny… She had just helped Murray with the dishes that night. Puzzled but not willing to put too much time into searching for the little helicopter shaped mug, Penelope settled for a plain glass cup. She put it under the faucet and turned on the cold water, smiling as it began to fill up.

She swished her tail slowly behind her at the thought of the refreshing water which was unfortunately preventing her from hearing approaching footsteps.

 

A figure now stood in the doorway, out of her sight in the darkness. He stood tall and alert, gripping his weapon in his hand. In a blur of motion, the figure leapt across the room and knocked the mouse off of the stool. She went flying back with a painful gasp and yelp. The glass was sent shattering against the wall, splattering water and glass all over the countertop.

Penelope hit her head when she landed on the hard floor, moaning painfully.

Despite her pain, Penelope knew that lying there wouldn’t be serving her any favors when there was someone hostile in her house. She made a move to roll onto her knees and dash away but was quickly hit with the weapon again, this time being launched directly into the wall so hard that it dented. She screamed painfully, gripping at her chest as pain filled her ribs and blood dribbled out of her mouth. As she made another move to dash, the figure kicked her flat in the face, sending her to the corner of the kitchen with absolutely nowhere to run.

With alarming strength, (to her, at least, as it didn’t take much to lift the mouse), she was grabbed by the throat and pinned against the wall.

The figure stared her dead in the eyes. His fierce brown eyes pierced into her soul as he panted and growled, overcome with rage.

 

Penelope panted and kicked to no avail, eyes blown wide as she recognized her attacker to be… Sly. She tried to choke out something- anything; a word, a plea.

“ _S-..Sly…_ ” She rasped out in a whisper as the hand at her throat gripped on tighter.

“I told you I’d kill you for that.” He barked as he exposed his sharp fangs.

His hat was missing but he was dressed normally otherwise. Her eyes locked onto a nasty scar that stretched across his neck just before her vision blurred. She didn’t really have that much time to take any more details in before he slammed her down onto the ground. As soon as his hand was gone from her throat, Penelope grasped at her neck and gasped for air as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She didn’t have time to speak before another whack from Sly’s cane sent her into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of alcohol was the first thing that Penelope identified as she began to come to. Her entire body ached and her splitting headache made her whine. She blinked several times as she looked around in a weak attempt to figure out where she was. It looked like the basement from what she could tell in the dim light.

A figure stood in the corner of the room but she didn’t notice right away, too busy assessing the fact that she had been tied to a chair.

 

“ _What in the hell are you doing here_?” A gruff, cold voice demanded, causing her to jump.

She looked up to see Sly emerging from the shadows. He wasn’t holding onto his cane, thankfully. She couldn’t bare any more blows from that damn thing. Penelope trembled and shrunk in on herself, heart racing as she scanned her eyes over Sly’s body.

His fur seemed much more… unkempt. It was rougher and more scraggly… His body was littered in nasty scars and as he drew closer she realized he was the source of the stench of alcohol.

“ _S-Sly_ ,” Penelope rasped out, shaking uncontrollably as she shook her head, looking around the room in panic. She was clueless as to why he had attacked her to begin with but his physical appearance baffled her further. Penelope _knew_ beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sly had never been littered with scars like that. Her mind raced for an answer as she struggled to form words.

“Why are you doing this?” She managed, nearly flinching when Sly shot her a look.

He seemed disgusted, shocked, really, that she would even dare ask that.

His shock quickly turned to anger, however, and he smacked her across the face.

 

“ _Don’t you dare pull this shit, Penelope_! _What were you doing? Why did you come back_?!”

Penelope stared down at the floor as she shook, tears streaming down her face as the stinging pain in her cheek only added to her desire to curl in on herself and hide. She tried and failed to pull her knees to her chest to hide in. Her legs were tied to the legs of the chair, too.

When Sly realized that she didn’t plan on answering, he debated on striking her again.

Clearly she was playing dumb. She was attempting to gain his trust just like she had all those years ago. If he hadn’t given her so much trust…

Sly cursed under his breath and turned away, pacing angrily with a growl.

He seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown and Penelope realized that if it came to that she would end up being beaten around more.

Where was Bentley, she wondered? Surely he didn’t know Sly had her locked down here like some kind of animal. It took all the bravery she could muster but she finally spoke up.

“W-Where’s… Where’s Bentley?” Her voice was shaky and uneven.

Sly turned to stare at her with a look of pure hate. He took a couple of steps towards her, looking as if he may attack her once again. The mouse braced herself for another blow but it never came. Sly scoffed and turned away, grinning when he saw Penelope flinch.

 

“The act isn’t working, you know. You can drop it and just admit that you’ve come back to finish what you started.” Sly spat hatefully. Penelope stared at him in silence, taking in a few shallow breaths to calm herself. When she was sure that he wasn’t going to add anything more, she did.

“F-finish what, Sly?”

The raccoon clearly wasn’t having any of it and shook his head, letting out a comical laugh. “Funny. _Real_ _funny_.”

Penelope opened her mouth to speak but Sly swung at her again, smacking her across her other cheek with the back of his hand. The mouse let out a pathetic squeak, thrashing her tail around in pain as Sly pulled back, preparing to strike her again. A clicking sound from the top of the basement stairs grabbed both Sly’s and Penelope’s attention. Sly stood up straight and flattened his ears as the sound of humming grew louder. Sly stared in silence as A small platform lowered Bentley down into the basement.

Penelope perked her ears up in joy initially, hoping that her boyfriend had come to save her from the abuse she was endearing. The look that the turtle wore on his face was anything but concerned, though. He looked cold and bitter. The sight alone made Penelope’s stomach drop.

 

Bentley rolled up to her, staring at her with a blank expression in absolute silence for a minute. He seemed to be studying her, scanning over all the details of her face and body.

Her overalls were stained in her own blood at this point but she couldn't say she really cared that much. Her clothes could be replaced but her friends couldn’t.

Before Bentley could speak, Penelope did. “ _Bentley…_ ”

She whispered out pathetically, almost sounding like she was pleading with him to let her go with her tone of voice alone. The turtle seemed unmoved by her show of fear.

He looked to Sly with a questioning look, then back at Penelope.

Sly took a step closer and grabbed Penelope by the chin, forcing her to look up at him.

Her heart raced rapidly inside her chest as she stared into Sly's eyes, panting like she was being choked. Sly let her go after a moment and scoffed again, swishing his tail, clearly agitated once again as he began to pace the basement.

 

Penelope’s gaze hesitantly returned to Bentley as she sobbed, lowering her ears fearfully.

“Why did you do it, Pen?” Bentley asked simply.

Penelope shook her head, not understanding the question in the slightest.

“I-I don’t know w-what you’re talking about, Bentley.”

The turtle looked like he almost believed what she was saying for a moment but just as soon as Penelope began to grow hopeful, he turned away and began pushing his wheelchair back to the platform he’d come down on.

“Bring her to the lab.” Bentley ordered Sly. Without hesitation, Sly undid the binds that held her legs to the chair, then the ones holding her arms. Her hands were still tied behind her back, leaving her no chance of escaping. She thrashed and squirmed a bit as he threw her over his shoulder. She fought against him as he began walking back up the stairs.

“Stop squirming, rat.” Sly snapped.

  


Penelope stopped most of her thrashing for the rest of the trip upstairs, knowing she couldn’t overpower Sly and the struggling would only make him mad. There was complete silence until they got to the lab. Bentley flipped a switch and the bright, overhead lights flickered on with a buzz. Penelope squinted and hid her face in Sly’s shoulder, not used to the light.

Sly walked over to the middle of the room and threw her down in a chair roughly.

Penelope gasped and pulled her knees up to her chest in a useless attempt to hide her trembling body. She looked all around the lab. It looked… different. Not completely different, but it wasn’t the lab she knew. Her gaze returned to Sly fearfully as the raccoon stared at her coldly, holding his cane firmly. He was ready to smack her with it if she tried anything rash.

Penelope winced and turned to look for Bentley. He was over at a desk, trying to find something inside of a drawer. The sound of items being shuffled around filled the room with noise. Penelope was certain whatever he was fishing out wouldn’t be good news for her.

The thought of Murray joining in on whatever this was made her shake even more.

 

Surely Sly and Bentley wouldn’t allow that, though. A punch or two from that brute would’ve cracked her skull easily. She wasn’t dead yet, so there was clearly a reason she was still alive.

“Bentley, please… Just- Just tell me what’s going on.” The mouse pleaded.

Bentley turned around to look at her blankly, not saying a word before he turned back to fishing through his items. Penelope knew that whatever they were doing was going to involve her getting hurt more. Why she was being attacked to begin with was still beyond her.

She would assume this was all a crazy, horrible nightmare if the lingering pain in her chest and back wasn’t reminding her that this was in fact, very, very real.

The last thing she was expecting was for Bentley to actually speak to her.

“What’s happening… _Penelope…_ ” He spat her name with such disgust it practically felt like a dagger being driven into Penelope’s poor, frightened and broken heart.

“You’re paying for what you’ve done. And please… stop playing dumb.”

Penelope flinched away from the turtle when he came close and reached out to her.

He ran his gloved hand across her face, examining the damage that Sly had done.

The turtle shot Sly a glance but Sly didn’t say a word, only huffing disapprovingly.

 

Bentley pulled away from Penelope after a moment and hesitantly reached for her overalls.

Penelope squirmed and made a move to kick him away but Sly was instantly by her side, shoving his cane against her throat. The mouse sniffled and closed her eyes as Bentley pulled her overalls back and lifted her yellow shirt slightly so that he could see her stomach.

He didn’t pull it up very far; just high enough to see the old scars that lined her stomach and sides. He looked up at her questioningly and let the shirt fall back down.

Sly retreated from her side as soon as Bentley had, swishing his tail as he turned his attention to Bentley. Penelope watched as the two exchanged glances. Bentley didn’t seem angry anymore but Sly’s bitterness was still very much present.

 

“You’re not our Penelope, are you?” Bentley asked.

Penelope blinked, unsure how to react to that statement.

“W-what do you… mean?” She questioned. Bentley nodded his head towards the mouse, silently signalling for Sly to cut her hands free. Despite Sly’s obvious dislike of the idea he still did so, freeing the mouse’s little hands. Penelope rubbed at her wrists with a wince.

“How’d you get those scars?” Bentley asked. It took Penelope a moment, but she found her voice. Sly watched her closely, still not convinced that the mouse wasn’t a threat.

“China… You… you know that.” Bentley gave Sly a look. The raccoon rolled his eyes and shook his head, clearly not buying whatever it was he thought Penelope was trying to sell to them.

“The dragon?” Bentley questioned softly. Penelope gave a hesitant nod.

“You’re not our Pen.” Bentley repeated, certain this time.

 

He knew that she seemed different. Smaller, softer, weaker. She didn’t fight back as much as his Penelope would have and she seemed so fragile. Bentley carefully reached out his hand and rubbed his thumb across her cheek, pulling back instantly when she winced in pain.

“I’ve got this, Sly.” Bentley said as he turned and began making his way back over to his desk.

“But Bentley-” Sly objected, lowering his ears. He didn’t trust this Penelope, even if there was a chance that she wasn’t the one he had known. Why should he trust any Penelope?

Bentley looked back at Sly with a reassuring look.

“Sly. It’s fine.” He insisted. It took a moment but Sly gave in and left the lab, shooting the mouse a glare before he walked out the door.

“Come here, Penelope.” Bentley said softly as he patted a small chair next to his desk.

The mouse shakily got out of her seat and paced over to him, wrapping her arms around her chest as she tried to stop shaking. Bentley looked at her and noticed her broken state.

Penelope noticed a quick look of guilt on his face but it was gone as soon as it had came.

 

Carefully, she climbed onto the seat, unsure what Bentley was planning on doing.

She hadn’t a clue what he meant when he said that she wasn’t _his_ Penelope but she had a feeling she would soon be finding out. Bentley leaned forward, causing the mouse to flinch slightly. He began cleaning the cuts across her face with a small cotton ball.

Whatever he had put on it burnt her face but she resisted letting the tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes fall. As carefully as he could, Bentley cleaned all of her visible wounds, putting small bandaids over them when he was satisfied that they were clean.

“I guess we have some explaining to do.” Bentley said sheepishly, averting his gaze from her.

Penelope nodded, rubbing her elbow nervously.

“Do you know what’s going on, Pen?” Bentley asked. Penelope shook her head, no.

“I guess I should start, then” He sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

“A few hours ago,” Bentley started, “-there was a disturbance in our flow of time.”

Penelope blinked. When she had gone to bed, her and Bentley had just been working on their time machine together. If there was some sort of disturbance in the flow of time that he noticed, then that meant that this Bentley already had a way to keep an eye on time as it passed.

“I figured it was you- or…” Bentley blinked a few times and took off his glasses, wiping them off.

“Our version of you, coming back.”

“Coming back from where?” Penelope asked.

“You- our Penelope, left several years ago. She figured out how to slip into another timeline completely.” Penelope’s eyes widened in a mix of horror and excitement.

“We figured out time travel?” She asked excitedly, almost completely forgetting the pain in her body. Bentley didn’t share her enthusiasm in the slightest and simply answered with a nod.

Penelope realized that she was getting a little too excited and muttered an apology. She was in another timeline… But how? Her and her own Bentley hadn’t quite figured out time travel yet… How could she have ended up in another timeline?

“It wasn’t a good thing that we did, Penelope. You used it to your advantage. You…” Bentley hesitated, ignoring the lump in his throat as best he could.

“ _You_ _betrayed us._ ” Penelope shook her head, wanting to believe that, no. She couldn’t have possibly betrayed her friends, especially Bentley. She’d done so much for them over the years.

She had fought pirates to keep them safe, left behind her legacy as The Black Baron and fallen hopelessly in love with Bentley. How could any version of herself simply throw all that away?

 

“Bentley… I wouldn’t ever betray you guys. I don’t know what I’m like in this timeline, but I’m nothing like her.” Bentley shook his head and let out a sigh.

“I know you’re not.” Her hair was too light and short. It was frizzy in a way that would have drove his own Penelope insane. She wasn’t dressed how his Penelope would ever dare dress. An overall was far from her sense of fashion. There was no golden earring hanging from her ear and by the looks of it, it had never been pierced. Her glasses were much too big; it was something his Penelope would have labelled as dorky; too ugly for her to even consider wearing. This new Penelope was shorter by at least a foot and his own Penelope would have never trembled like he had seen this Penelope do.

His Penelope was cold, strong and intelligent. This newcomer seemed to be warm, ever-so curious and soft. If she had fought Lefwee in her own timeline, Bentley had no doubt that she could also be courageous and brave. Hell; if this Penelope had ever been the Baron, he knew full well she was capable of being brave, if not a little violent. Bentley couldn't even imagine what this was all like for the small, beaten mouse. Being thrown into a world where your friends despised you and even went as far as beating you with a cane upon seeing you didn’t seem pleasant to Bentley.

Honestly, he was surprised with how well she was handling it. There would be time for apologies later even though he would most likely have to fight Sly to get him to apologize to the woman.

 

“You’re nothing like my Penelope.” Bentley assured her, having noticed the slight fear in her eyes after being told that in this timeline she was a traitor. Penelope lowered her ears shamefully as if this twisted Penelope's sins were her own.

“ _What did I do_?” The question was asked so carefully that Bentley knew once she was told the truth it would crush her. Even if it wasn’t actually her that betrayed this version of the Cooper gang, she still felt guilt for whatever this alternate version of herself had done.

“You tried to kill us.” Bentley said plainly. A look of shock and disgust crossed Penelope’s face but she didn’t speak, instead grabbing at her pant legs nervously. Bentley continued.

“You… Didn’t fully succeed…” Penelope blinked at him, shaking her head in confusion.

“ _Fully_?” Had she actually managed to snuff someone out? Bentley didn’t elaborate.

“After we beat you, you fled. We didn’t know where you went but you were no longer in this timeline. You seemed to have slipped to a new one. I can only assume that she’s sent you here to get you out of the way.” Penelope stood up, a frantic look on her face. If that other Penelope had swapped with her and had taken her place in her own timeline it would only spell disaster for her friends. That meant that everyone, including her Bentley, was in danger.

 

“I need to get back, Bentley. I can’t let her hurt them!”

Bentley waved his had as if to shoo the idea away.

“Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell what timeline you’re from.” Penelope extended her hand out to him, a look of determination on her face. She seemed sure of herself and Bentley forgot how charming she could be when she wasn’t stabbing him in the back and leaving him for dead.

“Then let’s figure it out together. We’ve pulled off crazier things, right? If we made a time machine, how hard can it be to track where I came from?” Bentley looked as if he was debating on taking her hand for a moment but ultimately turned away, shaking his head.

“Considering that there’s infinite timelines, Pen… very… very hard.”

Bentley began to roll his wheelchair to the door, leaving Penelope feeling hopeless and alone as she lowered her hand back down to rest at her side.

He stopped at the door and turned his head to look at her.

“Come to the kitchen. I’ll make you tea and see what I can do for you.”

Penelope perked up at the mention of tea and began to follow behind him, keeping her hands clenched together nervously. She tried to assure herself silently that everything would be okay and she would make it home before anything bad could happen but she worried what this rogue Penelope was doing to her friends… _No_ … They were her family.

If that rat hurt them ...there would be hell to pay.

 

When they made it to the kitchen, Penelope sat in one of the wooden chairs anxiously, holding her tail close to herself. Sly wasn’t anywhere in sight. Penelope assumed that he was with Murray elsewhere in the house. She sat quietly, watching as Bentley began to make tea for the both of them. Once the water began boiling, Bentley rolled up next to her. He seemed a little more friendly than before now that he was convinced that this Penelope wasn’t a threat- or at least the threat he feared. He handed her a small toaster pastry and smiled when she began nibbling at it. Penelope gave him an unsure smile.

“My Penelope got rid of her scars. She nearly killed herself doing it.”

He said as he gestured to her stomach. Penelope put her hand over her stomach, recalling when that horrible red beast snatched her up in its claws. Bentley had cared for her after that incident but the scars never faded. She despised the marks for many years but eventually, with much love and encouragement from Bentley, realized that they were a testament to her survival. She had survived more terrors than most people would ever face.

Bentley would always assure her that her scars didn’t make her any less beautiful. Penelope felt her throat tightening. She wanted to go home.

 

She sniffled and looked up at Bentley pitifully. The mouse really was trying her best to stay calm but the threat of her family being hurt was tearing her apart. Bentley gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head, still in disbelief that his Penelope wasn’t done with her reign of hate.

Even after everything she had put him and this timeline through, she still wasn’t done?

Bentley cringed. He made his way back over to the water to continue making the tea.

“What’s it like in your timeline, Penelope?” He asked, trying to make conversation that hopefully wouldn’t make the currently fragile woman cry. She was too shaken up as it was.

“Well… Sly doesn’t live with us anymore.” She began. Bentley looked over his shoulder to give her a puzzled look. He didn’t interrupt, though.

“He’s a cop.” She chuckled nervously before taking another bite of the blueberry flavored poptart. Bentley wasn’t sure if he should take her seriously at first.

“Is this Carmelita related?” He asked. Penelope gave a nod as she finished the poptart.

“Figures.” Bentley grumbled before turning back to the tea.

“Me and you still live… here. Murray actually took off as a racer.”

 

At the mention of that name, Bentley seemed to flinch.

Penelope didn’t seem to notice, currently distracted by the crumbs that had collected on her overalls. She was still brushing them off when Bentley returned with the tea.

He handed it to her in a small blue mug, warning her that it was hot before she grabbed it.

Penelope pulled the tea closer to herself, enjoying its warmth against her hands. She sat it down and removed her gloves, sitting them up on the table. She grabbed onto the mug again, shivering happily when the warm cup melted away the cold from her fingers.

Bentley gave her a soft smile and blew on his own tea, waiting for it to cool enough for him to drink. The question was bound to come up sooner or later, so Penelope just said it.

“What’s different in your timeline?” Bentley was silent for some time but finally began to speak.

“She killed Carmelita.” He said plainly. Penelope blinked, eyes blown wide.

That explained Sly’s impulse to immediately begin whacking her around.

“ _Oh_.” Penelope whispered and averted her eyes. Bentley took a sip of his tea before continuing.

“Murray’s also… gone.” Penelope blinked. What was she supposed to say? She felt the need to apologize profusely but she didn’t speak. She simply looked down at her tea guiltily.

 

“She nearly got Sly, too…” Bentley muttered bitterly, absentmindedly tracing his finger across the lip of his mug. He blew the rising steam away before taking another sip.

Penelope looked down at her own cup, staring at the liquid as steam rose, warming her face.

“Is that why he’s so scarred?” She asked. Bentley nodded.

Penelope looked away again and lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip. Her nose scrunched up at the taste at first. It was strawberry. It wasn’t bad, really; she was just expecting peach.

Bentley gave her a puzzled look and she waved her hand dismissively, letting him know she was alright.

“I was just expecting a different flavor, that’s all…” Bentley nodded but didn’t say anything more.

The two sat in the kitchen, quietly sipping tea as soft rays of sunlight bled into the kitchen, lighting the room in an orange hue. Bentley kept glancing at her when she wasn’t paying attention, taking in the small details that set her apart from the Penelope he once knew.

This Penelope’s presence didn’t demand respect or obedience like his Penelope's had.

Her eyes were soft and kind and as she sipped at her tea, Bentley realized just how badly he missed the companionship of his own Penelope, as crooked and evil as she was. He didn’t miss her- when he thought about it. He missed the memories they had created. The mornings spent making breakfast, listening to the birds sing while Murray and Sly slept until late in the day. The books they’d read together in bed… They would stay up at odd hours of the night; crafting and creating anything their hearts desired. He didn’t miss his Penelope; he missed how peaceful his life used to be. He missed when he thought she loved him. Bentley would have killed her if he would have known how things would have played out. She killed Murray and Carmelita without any hint of hesitation or regret. Not only had he nearly lost the only family he’d ever had but Sly was far more damaged than the raccoon ever cared to show. He’d vanish for days at a time and come home stinking of alcohol. Sly wasn’t happy, Bentley knew. Sometimes he wondered if they both would have been better off dead. He winced at the morbid thought and looked up his guest.

 

Penelope had just finished her third cup of tea.

“You should sleep.” Bentley said as he sat his empty mug on the table. Penelope didn’t argue, simply nodding as she stood, stretching her sore legs out.

“Come on.” Bentley said as he began making his way towards the room where she’d be staying the night. Penelope followed him out of the kitchen and down the hall to a wooden door.

It was in the exact same spot as her own room in her own timeline; though anymore it was only used for storage since she shared the same bed as Bentley.

As soon Bentley pushed open the door, Penelope peeked inside, looking around.

This room… wasn’t like hers in the slightest. Several pairs of old, dirty clothes littered the floor.

None of the outfits looked like anything she’d wear herself. She was comforted by how different her and this version of herself really were. They weren't the same. A faint scent of perfume filled the air, making her scrunch up her nose.

 

“If you need anything, come to me.” Bentley said before beginning to make his way back to his own room. Penelope turned and watched him as he left, now alone in the hallway.

Sunlight was peeking through, making the entire hall glow a hue of orange.

Penelope hesitated before walking inside her room and shutting the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full credit to @mx-kit on tumblr for the idea of Penelope being scarred by the dragon <3


	4. Chapter 4

Penelope had more than a little trouble getting to sleep. The bed smelled like that wretched perfume and it made her borderline nauseous. Who wore that much perfume, anyway?

She eventually was able to fall under but was plagued with nightmares.

When she awoke near dusk, she felt cold and uncomfortable. She couldn’t quite recall what her dreams had entailed but she knew that they weren’t pleasant. The one thing that stuck in her mind was being confined somewhere small; much too small and tight. That was all she could remember. The little mouse decided to finally crawl out of bed and out of the covers, leaving the fuzzy white blankets hang messily off the side of the bed. By the shape of the room nobody had been in there or had cared to keep it clean for years. Penelope stretched out her legs and popped her back, wincing at the soreness in her chest from where Sly had whacked her.

She felt slightly guilty for sleeping so late but she knew she had to rest, even if it didn’t take away the lingering guilt of missing the day. Penelope opened the door slowly, peeking outside and into the hall. If she were back in her own timeline she wouldn’t have thought twice before walking out of her own room. She didn’t belong here, though, and considering she’d been attacked on sight the first time she set foot in the house, she wasn’t too comfortable walking around like she belonged there.

 

As quiet as she could, Penelope crept out into the hallway, making her way to the kitchen.

When she reared the corner the first thing she saw was the fading sunlight reflecting off a golden hook; Sly’s cane. She froze, staring at where it was propped against the corner of the wall. Sly was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, eating a slice of pizza.

His brown eyes flicked up at her, barely giving her any time to give him an awkward wave before he looked away again, staring out the window. Penelope hesitated before walking inside of the kitchen. She kept her distance.

“Where’s Bentley?” She asked softly. Her voice was still croaky from having just woken up.

Sly glanced at her again with a flat expression, taking another bite of the pizza.

“Hell if I know.” He growled before looking away again.

“Probably cooped up in his lab. That’s where he’s always at ever since _you_ stabbed us in the back.” He hissed. Penelope recoiled when he shot a glare at her.

“Look, I’m sorry for what your Penelope did to ya… But I’m not her, Sly.”

The raccoon watched her silently for a moment, flicking his ears back.

“And you expect me to trust you?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve lost enough.” The man leaned forward and grabbed onto a brown bottle.

Penelope’s eyes locked onto it, realizing that he was most likely already drunk.

“I thought you hated that stuff.” Penelope said as she sat down in a chair next to him, keeping her hands in her lap. Sly scoffed and finished the bottle in a few chugs, then turned to her.

 

“According to Bentley, all timelines are different, right?” Sly asked. Penelope nodded.

“So, little miss _innocent…_ What am I up to in your perfect little world?”   
“Stopping criminals.” Penelope said with a half-amused smile. Sly shook his head and scoffed. He stood up ungracefully and made his way over to the fridge, opening the door a little too hard before snagging another bottle of alcohol out. He returned to his seat, plopping down lazily and throwing his feet up to rest on the table, not caring if his shoes got it dirty.

“Yeah? Carmelita still on my ass?” He questioned with a chuckle, seemingly too amused and intoxicated to begin mourning the loss of his own vixen. Penelope looked at him.

“You’re a _cop_ , Sly.” That seemed to get the man’s full attention. He stared at her for maybe twenty or thirty seconds, unsure if he should take her words as fact.

He didn’t have much more to say on that before popping the cap off of the beer bottle.

“Yeah? What about Murray?”

“He’s a professional racecar driver, actually. Well… He was. He’s in demolition derby’s, now.”

That gained her a smile from Sly and he let out a laugh.

“Doesn’t surprise me. The big guy always had a way with breaking shit.”

 _Kind of like me, apparently._ Penelope thought with a wince.

“And Bentley?” Sly asked with curiosity, looking to Penelope with a far more relaxed look on his face than he had when she first entered the room to begin with.

“We’re building a time machine.” She stated simply. Sly’s smile fell slightly and he turned back to his beer. Penelope sat in silence for a minute before getting up to check if there were any more of those pop tarts she had been given earlier that morning.

“That’s about when things go to shit, you know.” Sly told her with a huff.

Penelope glanced back at him as she pulled the box of poptarts down, lowering her ears.

“Well I’m not going to let it happen that way, Sly. I’m gonna get home and stop your Penelope from ruining my timeline.” The woman said with certainty. She had to make herself sound certain, otherwise she'd feel more hopeless than she already did. Sly stood, a bit wobbly, and walked towards her; not in a threatening way but just to see her closer. He towered over her even though she was standing on the toddler step she used to reach the cabinets. He stared at her, silent for some time.

 

He looked as if he was debating on sharing something with her until he finally spoke.

“You’ll never make it.” He informed her coldly.

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him, glaring at the raccoon angrily.

“Yes, I will. I’m not lettin’ anyone hurt my family.”

“Even if Bentley is able to find out exactly which timeline you’re from, I’m sure our Penelope has already done far too much damage to it.”

“You don’t know that.” Penelope insisted as she crossed her arms, leaving the poptarts forgotten on the counter. Sly chuckled softly.

“Oh, I don’t? Sorry to break it to ya, Pen-” Sly poked her nose just a little too rough, causing the mouse to squeak and almost stumble off the step as she reached up to grab at her nose.

“-but that’s just what our Penelope does. She’s been gone for years, sending us confirmation that _unfortunately,_ time and karma haven’t caught up with her.”

Penelope hesitated, not quite sure how to reply to that.

“What do you mean?” She asked even though she was frightened as to what the answer may be. Sly turned away, motioning for her to follow him to the living room. She followed, watching as he drunkenly grabbed a device off of the coffee table. He clicked a button and watched as it projected images up for her to see. It was the same device that Bentley had made to stay in touch with Dimitri no matter where they were in time. Unfortunately, it also seemed to work across different timelines as well.

 

“She sent us the first one only a few months after she left,” Sly began with disgust, pulling up a picture that made Penelope gag. On the ground were two heads. It was her head… The severed head of a Penelope sitting next to a Bentley’s head. Penelope turned away and gagged, covering her mouth as she almost vomited. Sly didn’t even seem phased by the image, having already unfortunately seen it beforehand. Penelope refused to look at the image any longer and turned to leave the room.

“There’s more if you’re interested.” Sly called out sarcastically with a lazy grin, far too drunk to take the situation very seriously. Penelope ignored him and returned to the kitchen, too sickened now to eat the pop tarts she’d gotten out. She sat down at the table, feeling as if she should curl into a ball and cry. If that evil Penelope out there had no problem offing other versions of herself, why had she spared her? Why did that rat dump her off in her original timeline that she left to rot?

Penelope heard Sly stumbling down the hall; most likely to his room, she realized.

She wanted to find Bentley and beg him to help her find a way to get back home, especially after what she had just seen. Even though she still felt like throwing up, the mouse stood and walked out of the kitchen, making her way to Bentley’s lab. She knocked on the door, unsure if he was actually inside.

“Bentley?” She called out. It took a moment but the door opened and there Bentley sat, looking up at her. He instantly picked up on her anxiety by the way she held herself. She was clutching her hands together nervously and her ears were slightly lowered.

“We need to get me home.” She said. Bentley was quiet for a second but nodded before turning around and wheeling himself inside of the lab and over to his desk. Penelope took that as a silent invitation to come inside. She walked up to Bentley, looking at the device that he had just scooped into his hand. He held it up for her to see. It was a small, grey, circular device. Several small buttons were grouped together in the center and a small monitor was attached to it, standing upright; much like a laptop.

 

“There’s no way to figure out what timeline is yours exactly, unfortunately. We’re gonna have to make rough guesses and check if they’re correct.”

Penelope deflated at that a bit, knowing how long and hopeless the odds on her actually finding her timeline would be.

“There’s no way we’ll find it in time, Bentley.” She whined out desperately.

Bentley didn’t seem too keen on the idea either.

“I’m sorry, Penelope. It’s the only way we’d be able to get you back.”

“You can’t just track where the disturbance I caused came from?” Penelope questioned.

Bentley let out a half-amused laugh.

“We both know it’s not that simple.” Penelope covered her face with her hands and turned away, beginning to pace back and forth. There had to be a quicker way- a more efficient way to get her back to where she belonged. A hand on her side got her to stop her pacing and she turned to look down at Bentley. He seemed to be attempting to reassure her that it was okay.

 

“What if she decapitates _my_ Bentley, Bentley? We _have_ to find a quicker way.”

Bentley’s eyes widened in surprise. How did she know about that? _Sly_ , no doubt, he quickly realized

“There’s nothing more we can do.” He finally said with a sigh. Penelope wasn’t having any of it.

“Look, Bentley… I know you’ve pulled off some incredible things with Sly in the past, so… please.” Penelope bent down and grabbed onto his hands, gripping them in her own tightly as she looked into his eyes. He wasn’t her Bentley and she sure as hell wasn’t his Penelope but there was something that was driving Bentley to help her, despite what her evil version had done. This Penelope clearly didn’t deserve the fate that befell so many other versions of herself before her and saving other versions of himself and his brothers was always something he wanted to do. He had never found a way to track Penelope, though. By the time the twenty-second picture of the rat's morbid schemes had been sent, Bentley began to lose hope.

This was his punishment, he supposed. For the rest of his life he would be tormented, knowing that if he had simply snuffed his Penelope out, so many other timelines would have gotten happy endings. He feared losing Sly, though. His Penelope thought that she had successfully killed him. Luckily for Bentley she hadn’t stuck around to watch Sly take his last breath.

The turtle had barely been able to save the raccoon. Keeping Sly safe was the only thing keeping him going for the past several years. Even though Sly was much stronger than him, Bentley felt the need to watch over him nowadays, especially considering how bad Sly had gotten. He was drunk half the time and when he wasn’t, he was far more quiet and reserved.

The world had hardened the man and honestly, Bentley couldn’t blame him.

 

Bentley stared at Penelope, unsure how he would even begin to figure out where she had come from. A sickening idea filled his head, making him shiver with fear. They couldn’t find this Penelope’s timeline… but maybe they could get the evil Penelope to return to this one.

Bentley looked away, debating on whether he should risk all he had for this Penelope.

He quickly decided that no, he couldn’t. Letting his Penelope know that Sly had managed to survive would surely make her come back to try and finish him off. Her intentions were to leave Bentley alone, after all. Alone forever, losing his mind. She failed, thankfully.

The idea of risking Sly and himself to help this alternate Penelope wasn’t something he was willing to do. He turned away and shook his head.

“I’ll think of something, Penelope. I swear.” He really did want to help this poor woman out but what was his limit? Risking Sly was definitely off of the table.

Penelope stood and looked down at her feet, feeling helpless and lost.

A few tears threatened to spill down her cheeks but she resisted. She had cried enough since she arrived the night before. Bentley watched as she made her way over to a table, pulled a chair up to it and and sat down. She grabbed some blank paper and began making blueprints; brainstorming for any possible way she could get back home.

Bentley sighed and turned back to his own desk, knowing full well that her best chance at getting home was the one thing he wasn’t willing to risk.

_Not Sly. Not now, not ever._


	5. Chapter 5

A restless night of drawing up useless machines and plans was what kept Penelope from sleeping. She kept on, long after Bentley had urged her to go to sleep and retired to his own room for the night. She took very few breaks; only crawling out of the lab for bathroom breaks or to make herself more tea or snack on whatever junk food there was in the cabinets.

Penelope was focused and determined. She wouldn’t stop until she got home.

Somewhere between noon and three o’clock, she had finally passed out on top of her work.

Sly was the first to find her; having been sent by Bentley to check up on her.

The raccoon watched as she slept. Despite being slouched over on the cluttered table, she seemed peaceful while she slept. Sly made his way over to her and stared in silence, taking in the small details about her now that he wasn’t drunk.

 

She didn’t look much like his Penelope and she sure as hell didn’t act like her.

He felt a bit guilty for whacking her around like he did the previous night but he didn’t care enough to apologize.

Sly reached out to her, resting his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t have to say a word to wake her. From the touch alone Penelope nearly jumped out of her skin.

She jolted awake, looking around the room in panic before relaxing when she saw that, no, it wasn’t the evil version of herself coming to get her. She sighed in exhaustion as Sly removed his hand from her shoulder. The mouse rubbed her eyes groggily and yawned.

“What time is it?” She asked, her voice still filled with sleep.

“About ten.” Sly replied. It took Penelope a moment to realize that he didn’t mean in the morning. There went another day where she slept the sunlight away.

There were no windows in the lab so she hadn’t seen any sunlight in what felt like days.

“Bentley sent me to get you.” Sly explained. Penelope rose up out of the chair, not caring as some of her blueprints fluttered to the floor. She’d pick them up later.

Penelope gave Sly a small nod before turning back to look over some of her plans.

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Penelope assured the raccoon.

Sly turned to leave. “Kitchen.” Was all he said before leaving the lab.

 

When Penelope finally left the lab about ten minutes later, she made her way to the small kitchen. The smell of food was the first thing she noticed when she stepped outside of the lab; making her realize how hungry she really was. Her stomach growled as she reared the corner and peeked into the kitchen. Sly was already eating … spaghetti? Penelope’s ears perked up as she walked inside and sat down next to Sly. She looked on the table and was happy to see that there was no alcohol accompanying Sly’s meal that night. Bentley was eating quietly, barely having acknowledged Penelope entering the room. Her plate of food was already on the table, still barely warm. Sly seemed almost done with his food, Penelope noticed.

He always did eat faster than her and Bentley. Oftentimes, both her and Bentley would be the only ones left eating. She enjoyed the time alone with him.

After several minutes of silence, Bentley spoke up. Penelope put down her fork and swallowed the spaghetti she had in her mouth. Sly glanced over at Bentley, listening closely.

“Did you figure anything out, Penelope?” The turtle asked. Penelope hesitated for a brief moment before shaking her head. She hadn’t figured out anything useful.

What a waste of time. She grabbed at the glass of water in front of her and took a small sip, keeping her eyes downward.

“You know,” Sly spoke up, grabbing both Penelope and Bentley’s attention.

“-I was thinking. She still has no idea I’m alive, right?” Sly asked.

Bentley’s heart sank. They both had the same idea.

 

“No way in hell, Sly.” Bentley insisted sternly. Sly glanced at him with _that_ look;

The look he always had before he did something stupid or irrational.

“And why not? She took everything from us. I say we bait her back here and kill her, once and for all.”

“And get me back home.” Penelope interjected. Sly waved his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. That, too.” Sly muttered. Bentley shook his head, refusing to even let either Sly or Penelope think that there was even a slight chance that they’d be attempting that.

 

“And what happens if she actually gets you killed this time?” Bentley asked Sly. Bentley's voice carried a worried tone buried under all the anger but Sly caught it instantly. Sly simply shrugged with a laugh.

“It’s worth a try.” The racoon said flatly. Penelope sat in silence, watching the two bicker.

“And what makes you think this time will be any different?” Bentley questioned angrily. Sly remained silent as Bentley raised his voice and began ranting.

“She was able to not only _kill_ _Murray_ last time-” Sly flinched at that name. He lowered his ears like a kicked dog. If he was drunk he would have started crying right then and there. Thankfully for once he was sober enough to keep the emotions bottled up.

“- _I don’t think I need to remind you about Inspector Fox_.” Bentley said coldly.

Sly looked at Bentley with a newfound hatred in his eyes.

“All the more reason to try.” Sly insisted with a glare. Sly wasn't really sure if he was mad at Bentley for bringing up the vixen or simply still angry at himself that he had failed to protect her. Bentley shook his head and took another bite of his food, looking away from his brother in disbelief. After everything they’d gone through, Sly was willing to give up his life for the chance to take Penelope’s. Even if there was a chance that they could avenge Murray and Carmelita, was it worth it? Sly was the only thing that Bentley had left.

Losing Sly would break him beyond repair. Sly seemed like he wasn’t going to be persuaded out of it, though. Bentley looked at him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. Penelope watched the two for a moment, observing their staring contest.

“Sly.” Bentley said softly, pleading with the raccoon to not go through with this as his expression softened.

Sly shook his head. “Sorry, Bentley. I’m not backing down on this.”

 

Sly stood and walked over to the sink, sitting his dirty plate inside.

He made his way back over to the table and looked down. Bentley was visibly upset and nearly shaking in his wheelchair. Sly felt a pang of guilt. The raccoon reached down and put his hand on Bentley’s. The turtle looked up at Sly, fear filling his eyes.

“We’ll be okay, Bent.” Sly tried to assure him even though the words felt empty coming out of his mouth. Bentley continued to look up at him, unsure if he could really find comfort in those words.

After he had temporarily lost both Sly and Murray in India to The Contessa, he had sworn to never let anything separate them again. Yet… here they were.

Murray was dead and Sly was willing to throw his life away just to get a chance to kill Bentley’s ex-lover-turned-psycho. Maybe she was always mentally unstable, honestly.

Bentley gripped onto Sly’s hand with a death grip; doing his best to ignore the anxiety that made his throat clench and stomach churn.

“For Murray.” Sly said in a low, soft voice. That was all it took for Bentley to nod.

“For Murray.” Bentley said shakily.

 

Penelope squeaked when Sly turned and grabbed onto her arm, directing her towards the lab.

“We’re gonna need both of your brains for this.” Sly told her as he led her back into the lab.

Bentley wasn’t far behind. Penelope felt excited; far too excited. She almost felt the need to find a garbage can to puke in. When they entered the lab, Sly made his way over to Bentley’s desk and waited for the turtle to make his way over there.

When Bentley grabbed ahold of a blank piece of paper, Sly’s chest tightened.

The man was anxious, no doubt. Nobody could really blame him. It had been so long since they’d planned something together. Sly had been sticking to smaller thefts that he didn’t necessarily require Bentley for. Some of the biggest heists they could ever pull were now rendered impossible thanks to the absence of Murray. After his death, there were only a few jobs that the brothers did before silently vanishing into the shadows. Rumors surfaced about sightings of Sly but for the most part, nothing was ever heard from either of them.

 

“We’re doing this…” Bentley said aloud, looking between both Sly and Penelope.

“We’re really doing this?” Bentley asked, giving both of them a chance to back out.

He knew they wouldn’t. Penelope and Sly nodded in agreement, making Bentley cringe.

Risking everything was something that they often did. At that point, though, Sly knew their luck had left them a long time ago. He knew that when Clock-la crippled Bentley that it was running low but now it seemed completely gone. Luck or not, they were going after Penelope.

Or, having her come to them, rather. Sly watched as both Bentley and Penelope got to work, making a plan together. He knew he wasn’t needed in that moment, so he slipped out of the lab and outside. The night air chilled his fur and made him shiver. The moon was bright, illuminating Paris with its soft light. Sly shut the front door and paced down the steps and onto the street, tipping his nose up to the sky. He took a deep breath of the fresh night air. He could smell rain coming in. He paced around to the side of the house and grabbed ahold of a pipe.

Sly wagged his tail as he climbed to the top of the safehouse.

Once he reached the top he stood tall, letting the wind blow through his fur.

 

As Sly stood, staring up at the moon, he felt a certain sense of deja vu.

So many times he’d used to moonlight to guide him and it felt… relaxing.

He smiled for the first time in what felt like ages as he lowered himself to sit. It was small but it was a genuine smile. Soon, Penelope would be on the ground, dead at his feet. Then Murray and Carmelita would be at rest, he hoped. Sly laughed softly as a few tears welled up in his eyes.

It had been so long since he’d been hopeful. He’d lost all hope of finding Penelope. He wasn’t smart enough to find her through the timelines. When Bentley had failed he knew he had no chance whatsoever. _Maybe this would work_. Maybe, within the next few days, Penelope would meet her fate at the end of his cane. He wouldn’t make it quick, he promised himself quietly. She didn’t deserve that and she didn’t make it quick for Murray or Carmelita.

Sly wrapped his tail around himself as he thought in silence.

He would avenge his brother or he’d die trying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so dreadfully long! Q-Q more updates on the way !!!

 

Heavy footsteps echoed down the halls, echoing in a way that made  _her_ feel powerful, like the thunder before the storm arrived. 

There was a small amount of light flooding into the hallway; illuminating the grey walls and white floor with its soft glow. The stomping of the boots caught the attention of _her_ company and by the time she reached the door, both of her companions were looking at her expectantly. 

The tigress wasn’t angry, however, so that was good, at least.

She seemed rather amused if the grin on her face was anything to go by. 

“Did you know I’m dead here?” She questioned the two with a twisted smile. 

Despite the fact that she was laughing it off it was obvious that the knowledge of her demise made her uncomfortable. Penelope could see past the woman’s calm demeanor…. Underneath that grin was a sea of worry and anxiety. Despite the Captain’s attempts to appear emotionless about the situation, Penelope knew better. The mouse smiled. She could use this to her favour….

 

“Oh?” The smallest of the three questioned, clearly intrigued. “And what of me?”

“You’re in the ground too, it seems.” The tigress scoffed as she walked inside the room, plopping down onto one of the swivel chairs.

“Oh, dear…” The little parrot muttered and turned away, lifting his feathers up to put over his beak. That ..wasn’t pleasant at all.

 

Penelope perked up from where she was sitting, looking to both of her new accomplices.

“Well, every timeline is different, you know?” She hummed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Neither the tiger or the parrot seemed comforted by this statement and simply stared at the mouse with blank expressions.

Penelope realized she’d have to try _a little harder_ than that. The purple tiger shot her a look and silence filled the room for a moment. The mouse huffed, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. She had brought them here to help her; not to worry over what alternate versions of them were up to, even if they were up to being dead.

 

“ _Look_ ,” Penelope said with a groan, rubbing her temples in frustration.

“Neyla,” she said as she looked up at the tiger. Neyla tilted her head up to stare at the mouse.

“ _Captain Neyla._ ” Neyla corrected in a matter-of-factly tone. Penelope cringed at her arrogance.

“Well, _Captain Neyla-_ ” The orange-haired mouse hissed back, having lost her tempter in the heat of the moment. Neyla clearly wasn’t happy with the level of arrogance that Penelope spat back at her.

Penelope took a few steps closer to the tiger, glaring down at her through her thin glasses.

“I suggest you start taking me a little more seriously if you want to make it out of this in one piece.” The woman growled. Arpeggio shrunk in on himself a bit, watching as the two woman exchanged... words.

 

Neyla stood and grabbed for her whip, glaring daggers at Penelope.

“ _Is that a threat_?” Neyla questioned with a growl. Penelope gave her a smug look and tipped her nose up arrogantly. Neyla seemed hesitant to actually pull her weapon out, though whether that was due to her not wanting to risk ruining their little arrangement or something else entirely was unclear.

“No.” Penelope replied simply, still wearing her smirk on her face. _The arrogant bastard._  

“But if it was, _know that I could kill you,_ _easily_.” The little mouse almost bragged.

“ _Yeah_?” Neyla scoffed, pulling her whip out and giving it a backward swing in an attempt to intimidate the mouse. The resounding snap made Arpeggio jump and he shuffled back on the desk he was sitting on. Penelope didn’t so much as flinch at the show of aggression.

Penelope didn’t even blink and her grin seemed to grow even wider.

“And what makes you think you could take me, _mousey_?” Neyla hissed.

Penelope turned away from the tigress and headed towards on of her computers.

It was rather large; taking up an unreasonable chunk of the room.

The screen was holographic, much like the one her Bentley had back home… _His_ _home_. Not hers. Penelope grinned at the thought of what he had to be going through.

 

Her Bentley had most likely hurt that innocent little Penelope she'd _lovingly_ delivered to him... And on the off chance that he hadn’t, it was a nice way to torture him mentally. What better way to torment your ex than throwing a copy of his brother’s killer into his life unexpectedly? If she wasn’t so busy putting this little scheme together, she’d be checking in on how that weak little version of herself was doing. Watching Bentley crumble apart would have been so satisfying.

Why were so many versions of her so small and pathetic? It disgusted her, really. The mouse shoved the thought away and returned to what she was doing. It only took a moment for her to pull picture up on the screen. 

 

The image showed a mangled metal bird. Bright flames illuminated the withered metal, giving the image an eerie look. The agape jaw of the metallic owl was already horrifying enough without the presence of the glowing flames.  

Neyla approached Penelope silently, staring in visible confusion at the picture.

The anger she had moments before was cast off to the wayside.

“Are those the Clockwerk parts?” Neyla questioned in what could only be described as pure bewilderment. Penelope nodded, not bothering to look away from the screen.

“Yep. _Gone_ -” Penelope snapped. “- just like that.” 

Arpeggio came closer, staring from the edge of the table he was standing on. He was petrified and confused. Penelope caught his look of horror out of the corner of her eye.

“ _H-How?_ ” The parrot questioned in awe. “How could they possibly be destroyed like that?”

Penelope pulled herself away from the computer and made her way over to the bird.

Arpeggio looked up at her, unsure what she was planning on doing.

“ _Cooper_.” The mouse stated simply. Arpeggio glanced over at Neyla, sharing the tiger’s concerned look. Neyla turned away to stare at the picture again.

 

“Interpol’s files said I died there." Neyla stated coldly as she gripped the edge of the desk where the computer sat. Her claws dug into the metal, leaving faint scratch marks. "Was that Cooper’s doing too?” Neyla asked as she stared down at where her claws were planted on the desk. She looked up at Penelope with a mixture of disgust, anger and discomfort in her green eyes.

Penelope turned to look at the other woman and nodded. Neyla grimaced and looked away. 

“How is that possible? _He should be in prison._ ” The tigress hissed.

 

Penelope was amused by the cat’s anger. She made her way over to the Captain and put her gloved hand on her shoulder. Neyla shot a glare at her but the look held little weight to it.

Neyla wasn’t as bullheaded as she had been moments before. This mouse knew how things would play out here and if Neyla wanted to avoid meeting her death in the same way this timeline’s version of her had, she needed to listen to Penelope.

“Did you really think you could hold a Cooper for long?” Penelope hummed in a borderline mocking tone. Arrogance was thick in her voice, causing Neyla to let out a low growl.

Neyla huffed and turned back to look at Arpeggio, shrugging her shoulders to get Penelope’s hand off of her. The mouse’s hand slid off with no resistance.

“And what about him? How’d he die?” Neyla questioned, nodding towards Arpeggio.

“Cooper.” Penelope lied. Arpeggio averted his gaze, clearly bothered by the fact that he had been killed in this timeline. He didn’t want or need to know the full details. He didn’t ask.

 

“And what happened to the parts in this timeline?” Neyla questioned.

Penelope gestured to the screen. 

“In most timelines, Sly destroys both of you _and_ the Clockwerk parts.”

Neyla scoffed as an amused grin formed on her face. How could her plans have backfired this badly here?

Wasn't this timeline and her own almost identical? Sure, her own timeline wasn’t as far along as this timeline Penelope had brought her to but how did Cooper possibly screw things up that bad? Her plans were perfected, she thought. Her own timeline hadn't progressed this far, thankfully. Cooper was safely locked in prison- or he was last she knew. If that idiot Contessa slipped up the same as she had in this timeline, Neyla would make her pay.

“After you were killed in this timeline,” Penelope spoke up as she returned to her computer, scrolling through a few more photos before reaching the one she was looking for. 

It was a photo of this timeline’s Sly, alive and well. In the picture he was slipping into the safehouse, only with this evil Penelope running around, it wasn’t that safe anymore.

“Carmelita returned to interpol and the Cooper gang slipped away…”

Neyla snarled at the image, showing her fangs in anger as her tail swished behind her.

 

“And what of _your_ original timeline?” Arpeggio questioned Penelope, still taken back by how bad things had turned out here. Penelope grinned to the parrot.

“Oh, It’s doing _just_ fine.” She practically purred. The look of pure… hate… could it be called hate? Arpeggio wasn’t sure, but the look that Penelope got on her face made him shudder. She looked downright insane. 

 

“To avoid any confusion,” Penelope began, pulling up a small projection on her screen.

“I’ve named the timelines I’ve been through.” She pulled up a tree of different timelines. The name of each timeline was inside of a small box of varying colors. Some were black while others were red. This current timeline was blue.

“The black ones, I’ve finished off. Killed the Cooper gang entirely.” She explained, clicking onto a box that read, “ _Alpha-556”._ A gallery of pictures was pulled up when the timeline was clicked.

 

“This was one of the first timelines I explored.” Penelope explained as she clicked onto an image. There was Sly… 

His back had been impaled on a sharp rock. His eyes were wide and lifeless and his jaw hung open far too wide. His arms and legs hung limply at his sides and blood drenched his fur and clothing. Several deep, horrid gashes littered the raccoon’s body.

Arpeggio turned away, unable to stomach such a sight.

Neyla leaned forward a little, smiling in morbid satisfaction. The image of the mangled corpse brought her a sickening sense of joy. Arpeggio glanced over and saw Neyla's reaction.

Neyla and him may have shared many things; they were close friends and partners, after all. Something that the bird never had in common with her was her enjoyment in such grotesque things.

 

It was satisfying to Neyla to see someone she despised dead and mangled on a rock.

Arpeggio winced.

 

“You killed him?” Neyla asked, intrigued and excited. Penelope nodded.

“All of them?” The overly-enthusiastic tiger questioned. Penelope shook her head no.

“Not in that timeline.” The mouse ran her gloved fingers across the keyboard, looking as if she was daydreaming, grazing the keys too lightly to actually enter anything. A newfound grin formed as she turned to face the Interpol agent.

“It was satisfying seeing the others fall apart…”

“Not to interrupt…. Whatever _this_ is,” Arpeggio spoke up, gaining both women’s attention.

“But- what were you getting at?” The little parrot interjected.

Penelope stood upright, closing the image of the corpse much to Arpeggio’s relief.

“ _I’ve labelled each timeline._ ” Penelope began explaining again.

“My original timeline is X-226. The timeline you two are from is A-66-B. This timeline I’ve brought you to is timeline P-3N-22.” Neyla looked carefully at the screen as Penelope pulled up the different timelines. It seemed the Cooper gang were at least partially alive in all three timelines. Arpeggio hopped onto the back of one of the chairs nearby for a closer look; now perched beside Penelope. Neyla stood on the opposite side of the mouse. Her eyes were glued to the screen as well until Penelope turned to Neyla.

 

“To keep things less confusing, I’m X, you two are A, and this timeline is P.”

Neyla nodded and looked to the screen.

“When do we get to kill this timeline’s Cooper gang?”

“We’re not here to do that, unfortunately.” Penelope said. That clearly surprised Neyla.

“What do you mean we’re not killing them?” The tiger hissed, showing her fangs to the smaller woman once again. Penelope ignored the cat’s childish aggression and glanced over at Arpeggio. The parrot stiffened when her gaze fell on him. To say she frightened him was an understatement.

 

“We’re here to recruit this Bentley, hopefully…” The woman explained.

“If he can be persuaded to see our side of things… Imagine what we could accomplish.”

Neyla clearly wasn’t comfortable with this idea but didn’t vocally argue against it.

“Any other timeline-” Penelope spoke up, pointing at her computer.

“And I mean _any_ other timeline, we can do whatever we want. We can gather everything we need, find the perfect timeline and then take it over. We’d have three geniuses on our side. Me, Bentley and Arpeggio would build an army to keep things in check. A robotic army… One that doesn’t need to sleep or rest. We can steal the Clockwerk parts from a timeline where they’re still in tact. We could do whatever we pleased.”

 

Neyla glanced over at the mouse. Penelope was distracted; rambling her vision of their future to Arpeggio.

The tigress was many things. A backstabber, a liar, a thief, a crooked cop…. An idiot wasn’t one of them. She could smell something fishy. There was no hiding deceit from her.

Penelope may have convinced Arpeggio of her vision to share the world with them but Neyla wasn’t buying it. No way in hell. What exactly Penelope was planning on pulling, she wasn’t sure. Unfortunately for the rat, the cat had caught on to her deceiption.

Neyla glanced back at the tree of timelines on the computer screen.

However this played out, she would take it slow and steady. She’d succeed where her alternate selves had failed… And most importantly… She’d win.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It was early morning. The sun was bleeding through the thin curtains of the kitchen window.

Sly stood in silence, clutching a mug in his cold hands. His fur was a tangled, ruffled mess; not that the raccoon really cared. Penelope and Bentley had probably passed out in the lab since he checked up on them a few hours prior. It had already been three days since they had agreed to bait  _ his  _ Penelope. It still baffled him how the mouse he had known was so different than the one he had reluctantly accepted into his home. With an exhausted sigh, Sly leaned forward to lean against the kitchen counter. The sun was peeking over the horizon in a blindingly bright show that the daylight had indeed come again. For someone who lurked in the darkness most of his life, only to be brought into the light by the moon or the yellow glow of spotlights, it seemed as if the daylight was something that should have never been allowed to touch him or warm his fur.

These days he found himself lurking in the daylight more and more often.

When there were no all night heists to plan, what was the point of staying up past the brink of dawn and sleeping the day away?

Sly brought the mug up to his lips with cautious care and took a sip of the coffee. He felt like he’d need it just to make it through the day. Bentley was no doubt going to send him out soon to fetch more things for the lab and if this Penelope shared his old one’s love for coffee and bagels at odd hours of the day, he’d find himself being sent on food runs. It was like an odd sense of nostalgia but… not quite. Sure, his Penelope shared some things in common with this innocent version of herself that she had dumped here but they were far from the same. Sly didn’t have to scrunch up his nose and cringe whenever this new mouse walked by. She didn’t seem to wear perfume at all.

She didn’t waste her time on painting or filing her nails or spending stupid amounts of time locked in the bathroom to do her makeup. Hell, now that he thought about it he didn’t think he had ever seen this new Penelope putting on makeup.

_ Out with the old and in with the new.  _ The cup of coffee was finished far too quick and the cup was set in the sink.  He didn’t bother to wash it before heading down the hall and into his room.  When he reached out and gripped onto the handle, he felt a chill slither down his spine. He was hit with a feeling of discomfort- anxiety, maybe? 

He wasn’t quite sure.  The ice-cold touch of the doorknob was most likely to blame so he brushed it aside and walked into his room. The door creaked as it was pushed open, revealing the dark mess of a room.  Clothes and empty food bags were scattered across the floor, decorating it in a way that screamed, ‘ _ I don’t care anymore _ .’ 

It wasn’t like the raccoon was dragging many girls back here anymore. The air in his bedroom was crisp and chilly and that was just the way he liked it when he was going to sleep. It gave him a reason to stay hidden under the covers when the morning came. Why should he have to give up the warmth of his blanket?

 

Sly trudged inside and stretched his legs out, standing on the tips of his toes as his back popped. With a tired yawn, the man made his way over to his bed. On top of the sheets sat a blue hoodie, right where he had left it. Sly picked it up without hesitation and slipped it on, not caring if the process messed up his fur even further. Once the hoodie settled against his fur he let a small shiver overcome his body. His tail’s fur puffed out, sticking out in odd directions. 

In the corner of the room sat a full length mirror. If any sunlight was able to bleed through the thick dark curtains that hung from the top of the windows, staring into the glass pane would be blinding. With a tired huff, Sly trudged over to the mirror to look into it.

His fur was an absolute mess- more so than it usually was these days. The arrival of the tiny mouse had put him on edge and the creeping anxiety of what was to come nearly made him sick. His head still felt way too exposed, even though he lost his hat years ago. There was no hat that could replace his father’s so he never tried. The tips of his ears had been shredded, thanks to his Penelope.

 

He knew that the smaller Penelope had noticed it shortly after her arrival but hadn’t commented on his scars much; at least not to his face. His ears had healed over along with the horrid scar across his neck. Sly gently raised his hand and traced his finger along the jagged reminder that he’d survived against the odds. It wasn’t the first time, either.

The feeling of getting his throat slit was something he still had nightmares about and he swore that the taste of blood was still in his mouth. Bentley had assured him countless times that the taste was all in his head but it didn’t make the racoon feel any better. 

With the arrival of the new Penelope, Sly learned more about her world when they’d pass in the kitchen. He was similar to her own Sly in many ways even if he was a tougher, colder version of himself. Along with the difference in attitude, her Sly dressed in a brighter blue whereas he wore a darker shade. The tips of his ears were black unlike the small Penelope’s Sly.  On the sides of his face were several medium-length whiskers, something which little Penelope’s Sly also didn’t sport.

The conversations about their differing universes was a headache to Sly, especially considering  he had been hungover most of the time. He’d think that her and Bentley had been talking about him when they were discussing the other Sly. He’d jokingly began referring to himself as 

_ ‘Cicatrice’  _ due to the many scars he’d gotten not only from his Penelope but from the countless fights he’d gotten into over the years. This new Penelope quickly started calling him  _ Ice  _ due to his cold nature. Sly didn’t seem offended in the slightest. It kept things simpler when talking about his other self. 

Deciding that he had spent entirely too much time staring at himself in the mirror, Sly paced backwards a few steps and brushed off his hoodie, sending a few loose pieces of fuzz onto the carpeted floor. Before he slipped out of the room he glanced at a yellow bandana sitting on top of his bedside table. He wasn’t in the mood today to bother with it.  When Sly came back out into the kitchen he found himself face to face with Penelope. His heart sunk for a brief moment before he realized that it wasn’t the one deserving of fear.  He lifted his gloved hand to his chest with a relieved sigh, though Penelope seemed distracted.

Sly flattened his ears and watched her as her eyes scanned over a blueprint she held in her hands. She hadn’t acknowledged Sly whatsoever apart from stepping to the side of the doorway so that he could slip into the kitchen. She looked exhausted and her blonde hair was a frizzy mess. Sly nearly cringed at the sight. Both her and Bentley were no doubt overworking themselves on planning this entire thing out. Against his better judgement, since he still wasn’t completely comfortable around this Penelope, Sly extended his hand out and firmly gripped the mouse’s shoulder. Penelope stiffened under the touch and tore her tired eyes away from the blueprints she was holding onto much too tight; almost as if a sudden unseen wind would come along and blow them out of her hands, swallowing up her chance at returning home.

It hadn’t even been a week and Sly could tell the situation was weighing down  _ hard  _ on the girl.

 

“You need to sleep, you know.” Sly said firmly, leaving no question that he was demanding rather than advising that she slept. Penelope nodded meekly, clearly only half awake by her slow response. She made a noise between a grunt and a sigh, acknowledging that she knew as well as he did that if she didn’t get some rest soon she’d drive herself mad.

“Is Bentley awake?” Sly asked next. He wasn’t surprised when Penelope gave another nod.  Satisfied, Sly’s hand slipped off her shoulder and gently grabbed at the blueprints.

For a moment it seemed as if Penelope wouldn’t let go of them but she surrendered them without another peep, tiredly making her way towards the bedroom that didn’t belong to her. Sly rolled up the blueprints and watched as the little pink mouse mozied into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, locking it just like she had done every night before. Sly couldn’t say he blamed her for locking it. She was in unfamiliar territory with strangers who she should know if looks were anything to go by. The simple lock really couldn’t keep either him or Bentley out if they truly wanted to get in but the action seemed to soothe the woman’s nerves so he didn’t bring it up. The sound of his shoes echoed down the hall as he made his way to the lab, stretching his arms out as he went. Finding no reason to knock, Sly slipped inside of the lab and saw Bentley at his work table. Sly cleared his throat announce his presence. It only took a second before Bentley turned to face him, clearly as exhausted as Penelope.

“What is it with you brainiacs and resisting sleep?” Sly teased with a gentle chuckle, making himself quite comfortable as he leaned against the desk next to Bentley and tossed the blueprints up on the table. Bentley let out a quiet scoff and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“When I’m faced with something of this magnitude, Sly, sleep isn’t really something I felt the need to give in to easily.” 

The reply made Sly genuinely laugh at his brother, much to Bentley’s annoyance. He always was grumpy when he was sleepy. Sly crawled up onto the desk and laid out across the blueprints, preventing Bentley from returning to them.

“You’re supposed to be the smart one, Bentley. I’m no genius but I thought everyone with half a brain knew that sleep was a requirement.” Bentley shot Sly a dirty look, mainly for laying on top of such important work. Sly seemed to be acting a bit cockier than usual, though if he was genuinely finding himself to be in a better mood or just mustering up attempts at being playful to try and keep up Bentley’s determination to see this thing through was unclear.

“Come on, Bentley. Penelope just turned in and if you two aren’t on the sleep schedule than this whole thing is going to take a lot longer to set up.”

Bentley opened his beak to say something but quickly closed it, realizing that for once Sly was right. The turtle huffed and sat his pen down, surrendering it for the day in favor of resting his tired eyes. Sly perked up when the pen was given up so quickly. He hadn’t expected to win him over that quickly.

“Why are you up at this hour?” Bentley questioned with crossed arms. Sly hardly ever left the safehouse in broad daylight. Exactly what was he up to?

“Grocery shopping.” Sly lied with a smirk. It was clear to both of them that the other party was well aware that the lie wasn’t believed. Bentley gave another eyeroll to the racoon and turned his wheelchair to head out of the lab and to his own bedroom.

“Just don’t die yet, Sly. We need you for the plan.” Bentley teased darkly.

Sly sat up and watched Bentley make his way out of the lab.

“Wouldn’t dream of leaving you hanging.” Sly called out in a cocky hum.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I still don't like how formatting works on here but oh well!  
> More updates on the way!  
>  Special thanks to @silvers-mainblog and @one-sly-meme On Tumblr for the amazing pictures of Sly/Ice!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

Grocery shopping. That’s what was on Sly’s schedule for the day.

The man took careful precautions to make sure he wouldn’t be identified before slipping out of the hideout. One of his many tricks was to dye his exposed fur a different color with cheap, wash-out dye that he could easily get out once he returned home. Today he simply felt that wrapping a scarf around his neck and dressing casually would do. Who would suspect that he was the infamous Sly Cooper? He wore no hat and carried no cane. Apart from the blue hoodie, nobody would be able to look at him and think, ‘Hm. Why does he look familiar?’

Nobody in the outside world knew of the scar along his throat and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by displaying it for all of Paris to see. The red scarf was perfect for not only blocking out the cold raindrops as they fell but also the prying eyes of anyone who passed him by. Sometimes he still swore he could smell that old familiar scent the scarf held onto for so many years. That scent was long gone, he knew. It was just his mind playing tricks on him.

 

The sounds of the rain falling to the cobblestone streets were drowned out by the honking of passing cars and the splashing of their tires treading through the puddles that pooled along the curbs. Sly kept his nose pointed down, watching carefully as his dark blue boots splashed in the forming puddles underneath his feet. There was a threat of a storm coming if the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance was any indicator. He’d simply have to make sure he got done ‘grocery shopping’ before the storms arrived. He paced down the streets, keeping his eyes downcast and ears flattened. Several faces passed him by. Thankfully none of them gave him a second glance. He was just a normal looking raccoon. What was there to possibly catch someone’s ever curious eye? The shop he was headed to certainly wasn’t a grocery store. When the small coffee shop came into view, his shoulders dropped with a sigh. Something about the little shop always brought him comfort. Maybe it was the blueberry muffins he’d always snag up or the smell of caramel flavoured treats in the fall. Maybe the company it held had something to do with the comfort. The huge glass windows revealed that said company was working that day.

 

The woman’s orange fur caught his eyes instantly. Sly pushed his way into the half empty shop, flattening his ears when the ringing of the bells alerted everyone inside the shop of his arrival.

Sly’s eyes locked onto the woman behind the counter as soon as he set foot inside.

Her big blue eyes widened. She clearly wasn’t expecting to see him. There was no line, leaving him a clear path to the cat. There were only a few other customers in the shop but they paid neither Sly or the cat any mind. They were preoccupied, enjoying the company of friends, lovers and pastries. The smell of coffee wafted into Sly’s face, making him shiver. It had been too long since he’d come here for a cup of coffee or a friendly chat. The brunette cat tucked a loose strand of hair back and out of her face, scanning her eyes up and down Sly curiously. She didn’t say a word until Sly had reached the counter.

 

“Blueberry?” She hummed softly. Sly gave her a soft smile. He didn’t need to answer her, his smile gave him away. With no hesitation, the feline turned and took a few steps to the back wall, grabbing a thin sheet of paper to scoop up the muffin. Sly swished his tail behind him slowly, watching the woman with a soft gaze. It had been much too long since he had come to see her. It was unfair to her, really, but he didn’t want her to see him like this. A drunken mess that couldn’t move on with his life. Sly was a disgrace…. At least to himself, he was.

The woman turned and handed Sly the muffin with a bright smile.

“It’s time for my break.” She hummed. Sly returned her smile, gripping the muffin in his hands gently. With a nod over her shoulder, she beckoned Sly to follow her to the back of the shop.

He glanced around the little shop with hesitation, still paranoid that he’d see pink fur and disgusting yellow hair. He knew he’d find no such mouse here but the paranoia nearly made him vomit. He didn’t have to face that rat today. Tonight was for muffins and reunions.

He deserved it before marching to his death.

 

Once Sly and the woman made their way to the back room the door was closed and the man was hastily pulled into a tight hug. He had expected no less and returned the bone crushing show of affection with a hug of his own. His ears flattened and he found himself letting his guard down completely. It had been much too long since he’d been hugged. He… missed it.

The cat pulled away from him after a long moment, looking up at him with soft eyes.

She was only a few inches shorter than the man but she still felt so small when she stood next to him. There was a comfortable silence that the two shared for a long moment.

“Are you okay?” She spoke first. Sly had missed her voice. He nodded slightly, giving her the softest expression she had ever seen from him. The woman lifted her hand up, tracing her fingers across his cheek, then down to his neck. She paused when she reached the red scarf. She knew whose it was… or used to be. Her blue eyes drifted up to lock onto his brown ones with a look of sadness. He couldn’t stand to continue looking at her like that so he took a slight step back. The cat lowered her hand, curling her fingers into a soft fist as she returned her hand to her side. She was visibly upset over his broken state. She could tell he wasn’t okay.

“Has it healed?” She asked, nodding to his neck. Sly hesitated before removing the scarf from his neck. The scar wasn’t pretty. What scar was? It stretched across a good portion of his neck, both a testament that he had survived and a horrible reminder of the woman who had made it. 

“Not really.” Sly sighed, tracing a finger across the mark. It didn’t hurt anymore… It felt a little odd, though. The cat took a step forward and looked to Sly with a questioning look.

She wanted to feel it. Sly gave her a nod, letting her know it was alright to do so.

 

With extreme caution, she felt along the jagged line across his neck. She paused and pulled her hand away. Somehow feeling the scar made everything seem so much more… real.

“How’s… Bentley?” She asked, looking down to her work apron with a tired gaze. There were crumbs from the pastries she’d been handling throughout the work day that clung to the green fabric. She brushed it off slowly, looking for anything to stare at instead of Sly’s face.

The raccoon began to wrap his neck back up with the scarf, shaking his head.

“Fine. Not much better, really. He’s stronger than me, though.”

The cat gave him a sympathetic look. She hadn’t seen Bentley for years, not since….

Her ears lowered and she sat down in a chair, deflating and slumping her shoulders.

Sly sat next to her in another chair, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You came to see me for a reason.” She said softly, still refusing to meet his gaze. She almost seemed scared to look back at him as if his look alone would tell her too much. He was here for bad news, she knew. She hadn’t seen him in at least six months. It was obvious that Sly had taken a path down a self-destructive road that she couldn’t stand to watch him go down.

He had stumbled in one night far past closing time. Thankfully she was the only one working that night. Sly had been very, very drunk. He stunk of alcohol and smoke and was crying profusely, clinging to her with broken sobs and pleads for forgiveness.

 

There was absolutely nothing that needed to be forgiven, though. Sly hadn’t caused Penelope to turn on them. He had no hand in Carmelita or Murray’s deaths. He felt guilt from surviving it all, though. Something inside of him refused to accept that it wasn’t his fault. He always tried to rationalize some way he could’ve prevented it all or saved his brother and lover. At the end of the day it all became too much and he turned to bottles for comfort. Migraines and vomiting his guts out every morning really wasn’t helping any but he refused to give it up.

After his breakdown she hadn’t seen him since. Showing up uninvited wasn’t something she felt like doing, either. If Sly wanted to see her, he’d come to her. She had made sure he was at least alive. The shop was within walking distance of the hideout so she had seen glimpses of the man here and there. Confirmation that he hadn’t offed himself was all she needed. She could do nothing for him. She couldn’t resurrect the dead. In reality she found herself to be quite useless these days. There was nothing she could offer Sly aside from muffins and hugs.

 

“Sly.” She said softly. Sly wasn’t replying. He was trying to figure out what to say.

“Zo...” He began. The cat gripped her pants tightly. Hearing him use her nickname in such a… miserable voice. It made her shudder in fear. What in the hell was going on?

“I’m not sure if I’ll be around much longer.” He admitted bluntly. The cat stared at him with a look of shock. She was baffled to say the least. Before she could ask him what he meant, Sly continued. “I’m doing something… stupid.” He looked down at his boots, clutching his hands together as he continued. She at least deserved to know what happened to him if things did go horribly wrong. She didn’t need to wonder if he had killed himself. Sly wanted her to have answers. She had been his friend for so long, after all. They had met as children one night when Sly had snuck out of the orphanage. She had clung to him ever since and had even accompanied him and the others on the occasional heist whenever they requested her. 

She wasn’t as small as Sly by any means and she certainly couldn’t run across ropes but her claws came in handy. When there was no other way to scale a building, she had managed to scurry to the top countless times. That, and they were quite deadly when she needed to use them to defend herself or the rest of her friends. She was someone who preferred to be in the shadows. She was unknown to the world and to interpol other than a mysterious shadow that sometimes accompanied the infamous Cooper gang.

 

Sly had asked the new Penelope what Zo was like in her timeline but the mouse only looked confused. When Penelope had shown no knowledge of there being such a person in her timeline, Sly had to assume that either the cat simply didn’t exist or didn’t know the Cooper gang in that particular timeline. It would have been better if she didn’t know them in this timeline, either. She had only gotten hurt by clinging to Sly and the others. Getting caught by Carmelita certainly was one of the bad parts about chasing a Cooper. Sly gave a pained smile at the thought of the vixen. Zorion’s shifting got his attention back and he looked at her with raised brows. She stared at him, mouth open as if she were wanting to ask something.

“.....What are you doing?” She finally managed to get out, voice nearly shaking from worry.

Even though he had ghosted her for the past six months and worried the hell out of her, the thought of never seeing him again made her want to vomit. Death was always a risk they took whenever they’d go out and pull dangerous heists but it was clear that Sly had no intention of letting her follow him this time. He let Murray follow him and had to bury him as a result. Carmelita chased after him, alibet for different reasons entirely. Their stupid little crush for one another had sent her to an early grave. Sly wasn’t going to let anyone else follow him to hell.

There was no saving Bentley if things went wrong. He was the one Penelope wanted to hurt in all of this. Zo? Penelope hadn’t laid a finger on her. Maybe it was because the cat had drifted from the gang after… certain events, but Sly wasn’t letting that rat get her claws on this cat.

 

“I’m going to avenge them.” He said with a deep sigh. The man sat upright in the chair, finally gaining the confidence to look her in the eye again. He didn’t need to explain who. She knew.

“How? Penelope is gone.” The cat said in a hushed voice. It seemed as if she didn’t even want to say that woman’s name aloud. Sly couldn’t blame her.

“We’re baiting her back here.” Something about his tone of voice let her know there were parts he was withholding from her. She wasn’t going to get it out of him, though. How could he explain that a Penelope from another timeline had suddenly popped into their lives? Zo knew nothing of timelines and Sly was going to keep it that way. She could remain happy for the rest of her life, serving muffins and coffee and enjoy everything that she had always loved. She could curl into a book and snuggle up against someone that loved her, finally have that dream life she’d always chased after. Sly took another deep breath.

“I just wanted you to know that if I don’t show back up that I’m not avoiding you.”

“Not avoiding me  _ anymore? _ ” She asked. That made Sly wince. Even though she was happy to see him, she was still a little passive aggressive about being ignored for so long. He didn’t blame her. He knew he was being a piece of shit. Hiding away just because he had embarrassed himself in front of her was a shitty thing to do. 

“ _ I’m sorry. _ ” Sly said in almost a whisper. Zorion shrugged, shaking her head.

She knew he meant her no harm. Sly never was one for emotions.

 

“I just wanted you to know.” He sighed and began to stand. The cat put her paw on his shoulder, forcing him back down to sit. “You’re not swinging by for five minutes and bailing on me, Sly. You’re going to suffer through my company for a bit, no matter how many blueberry muffins I have to cram down your throat.” Sly couldn’t help but return the cat’s smile, despite how down he felt. This was temporary relief, though. It was certainly relief that wouldn’t result in a migraine. Loss of sleep from the sugary muffins? Maybe. It was worth it though.

 

Sly spent a few hours lounging around the back of the shop, talking to the feline in between her running up to the front to help customers. He missed her company and it was obvious she had missed his. When the time came for him to leave he had been crushed in another tight hug. It had lasted for quite a while as the two childhood friends held eachother close for what could have very well been the last time. He promised that if he lived, he’d come in on Christmas with the best gift she’d ever receive. Having him survive couldn’t top any material object, though.

She had cried before he left which made him cry a bit. She stalled as much as she could, getting him to linger around for as long as possible. He bid her farewell, muttering her true name too quiet for anyone else to hear. The look in her eyes let him know that she appreciated hearing it leave his mouth for what could have been the last time. 

 

The rain had really picked up, pouring down heavily on the streets as Sly walked down the partially flooded roads. His hood was pulled over his head, covering his head from the raindrops that fell endlessly. He felt the comfort he’d had moments before slipping away as the coffee shop drifted away behind him. Goodbye’s weren’t his strong suit and the threat of his death looming above his head was doing nothing to brighten his mood. He felt more alone than he had in a while even though he knew he wasn’t alone. The streets were mostly empty aside from the sound of footsteps shadowing him for the past few blocks. He knew he was being followed and he didn’t even bring his cane with him… Damn it all. The thought of it being Penelope clung to the back of his mind, making him more nervous with every footstep he heard behind him. He turned another corner, heading away from the safehouse. If they continued to follow him down this way he knew for sure he was being trailed. When the footsteps continued, Sly spun around, facing them with a slight snarl. He bared his fangs in warning but the show of aggression faded as quick as it had come. In front of him stood a woman. A vixen with big brown eyes, short blue hair… orange fur. Sly dropped his shoulders, staring into the eyes of the woman in shock.

She seemed to share his confusion. Her jaw hung open as rain ran down her brown leather jacket. She stood still, unable to form words for several seconds as she stared into familiar brown eyes. Sly took a step back as she took one forward.

“ _ Cooper _ ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! :)


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